


Deciding Her Fate

by LicieOIC



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Chastity Device, Corsetry, Dark, Dark Magic, Dehumanization, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Forced Erections, Heavy BDSM, Magical Appearing Penis, Multi, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Piercings, Prompt Fic, Rape, Sex Magic, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Universe Alteration, servitude
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To save her kingdom from ogres, Belle makes a deal with the feared Wicked Witch. She will serve in her Emerald Castle for one year, giving up all claim to her will and body. Belle finds a certain amount of solace with a fellow slave called Gold, whom her heart goes out to. If she can just make it through the year, perhaps she can find a way to save him as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consent

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by beneathamoonlessnight. From a prompt by woodelf68, adopted from shipperqueen93. This story is DARK, you guys. Extremely dark. But it's all fantasy. Please know that this is nothing like what should ever happen in the real world.
> 
> EDIT 7/8/16 - When I am able to return to writing fic, this story is getting a massive edit. There are some things that do not need to be written and I regret that I started this story from a place of ignorance toward marginalized people. Please accept my apologies.

As the carriage rumbled over the rocky terrain, Lady Belle clutched her hands together until her knuckles turned white, hoping to stop their shaking. The slight incline of the road told her she was approaching her destination. She wanted to appear brave, but the courage she’d displayed when she’d signed the contract had abandoned her now, when faced with the reality of her situation.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself for possibly the hundredth time that she’d agreed to this to save her father’s kingdom from the ogres. If not for her sacrifice, she and everyone she knew and loved would be dead. Surely, that was worth a year in servitude to the Wicked Witch.

A cold shudder tripped down her spine at the memory of the green skinned woman with coppery red hair and eyes that burned with blue fire. Everyone knew the tales about her - that she turned people who welched on her deals into slaves for her pleasure and their humiliation, among other things - and she went out of her way to confirm they were true. Everyone feared her, and that was how she wanted it. One had to be well and truly desperate to ask her for help. 

Belle remembered the night the Witch had come to Avonlea. How they’d pleaded with her to save the kingdom. Those cold blue eyes had raked over Belle’s body as if she could see straight through the golden gown Belle had been wearing before she named her price. Maurice, Belle’s father, had been prepared to refuse. But when faced with death as the alternative, Belle had accepted. She wouldn’t allow the kingdom to fall, not when it was in her power to save it. One week later, a malevolent black carriage that traveled without a driver arrived at the castle to whisk Belle away.

And now, she was about to find out first hand just how true the stories were. Would she have to live in a dungeon? Sharing her meals and a bed of straw with rats and mice? She trembled convulsively, trying not to think of what else might await her.

_ It’s only a year,  _ she reminded herself. Belle would have to submit for an entire year, giving up all claim to her body and will, but at the end of the term, the Witch had written into the contract that she would magically return Belle to her home with her body in its original state. Her state of mind however… well, that was up to Belle. She’d insisted that she was strong enough to go through with it to her father, but now, as she looked out of the carriage’s window to see further up the dark mountain to the castle on the peak, she wasn’t so sure.

The incline increased, signalling their final ascent. Like its mistress, the castle was entirely green, as if carved from a massive emerald. Perhaps it would have been beautiful, gleaming in the sun, but Belle could only feel dread. She leaned back from the window and took deep breaths - savoring her last few moments of freedom. When she heard the tall gates creaking open, she tried not to imagine the feeling of red-tipped talons curling around her neck.

The magical driverless carriage lurched to a halt and the gates slammed shut a moment later. Belle took one final breath and reached for the handle to the door. She jerked in surprise as it opened without her touching it. Her eyes went wide as she saw what awaited her.

A nude man with brown hair that brushed his shoulders stood before her, offering his hand to help her descend from the carriage. Well, he was nude but for a golden collar around his neck and leather cuffs at his wrists and ankles. But what inexorably drew her gaze was the massive erection springing up from his smooth hairless groin. She didn’t want to look, it was  _ rude, _ and she blinked rapidly, but she couldn’t look away. A ring that looked as if it was made of shiny green glass tightly encircled the base of the reddened organ, a sparkling miasma of magic continuously moving over the emerald surface. As she watched, clear liquid leaked from the tip of the bell-shaped head, dripping down the sides, and it appeared to have been doing so for some time. But as she lifted her blushing face to his once more, it was clear that he wasn’t concerned with the seemingly urgent state of his arousal at all. Rather, he looked pained but resigned, his dark eyes sad and full of shadows. The slump of his shoulders, his slightly tucked chin - everything in the way he carried himself bespoke of a brokenness. Her heart clenched out of sympathy for him, and he had yet to even speak a word.

His brows drew together slightly. “You are the Lady Belle, are you not?” he asked, his voice softened with a rolling burr.

“Oh!” She snapped back to herself, realizing she’d been silently staring for so long, he must think her some kind of idiot. “I am. I’m sorry, I just--”

“It’s alright,” he assured her. With sympathy, he added, “You’ll get used to it.”

He gestured with his hand, reminding her, and she grasped it, allowing him to help her from the carriage, which hurried off around the side of the castle once she was on the ground. She’d brought nothing with her, as per the contract, no hair ornaments, no jewelry, she wore only a simple blue dress, laced up the front over a white blouse, and plain, serviceable boots.

“I’m Gold,” he said. “I’ve been instructed to receive and prepare you for inspection.” He paused, and his sable colored eyes searched her cerulean ones, seeking something she wasn’t sure was there. “Do you know what’s expected?”

She gulped and nodded. “I must do as instructed at all times, submit to her in all things. No matter what it is.”

“Follow the other slaves and you’ll get along.” His gaze fell. “She does offer… some comforts to us. As long as we behave. Fear her punishments. She doesn’t usually require a reason to punish us, but try not to give her one all the same, if you can help it. She will take everything from you during this time,” he warned, “even your name.” The corner of his mouth turned up a bit and she thought he was trying to offer her a smile, but he’d forgotten how. “But you have a time sensitive contract. Try to bear that in mind when it becomes too much.”

She nodded again, feeling chilled by his use of ‘when’ rather than ‘if.’ 

Apparently, he felt he’d prepared her as much as he could for the inevitable and he turned, gesturing for her to follow. The light caught his hair as he moved, revealing streaks of silver caught amid the russet brown. She almost tripped as her gaze traveled down the smooth line of his back, to the twin dimples just above his perfectly rounded arse, and then down to the fringed tassel dangling down from the crack on a golden chain. It swung gently as he walked.

Taking another breath, Belle hurried after him, her blue linen skirt swishing around her calves.

Gold led her into the castle. As the doors closed behind them, Belle startled at the sound of a loud, hissing shriek from above. She scrambled closer to her guide as she whipped around, looking for the source of the noise. She gasped and covered her mouth with one hand has she caught sight of what appeared to be a large monkey with sharp teeth glaring down at her from the arch above the door. Only this monkey was wearing a gray uniform top and… were those wings protruding from its back?

She came back to herself as Gold squeezed her free hand in reassurance. 

“Her guards,” he explained and gestured to the other doorways leading out of the foyer. A winged monkey sat at the top of two other arches, keeping watch. 

“Oh.” She attempted to will her heart to stop its mad trample around her chest. “I’ve never seen a monkey with wings before.”

“Her invention,” he said. “They act as messengers and her eyes and ears throughout most areas of the castle.”

She accepted the hidden warning in his statement without a word.

He led her across polished marble floors flecked with silver and through hallways lined with ornate gilt mirrors. They passed a number of slaves, all going about their business. A few glanced her way, eyeing her dress, before quickly going back to their tasks. She hoped she would learn quickly to be so uncaring about nakedness as they seemed to be, or else she feared her face would be permanently on fire from all the blushing. 

Belle noticed that not all of the slaves were naked, though the corsetry and leather straps merely emphasized what they were  _ not  _ wearing. All of them bore a collar and cuffs and a tassel from their rear. Every female’s nipples were pierced with golden rings from which a matching chain was suspended and every male was kept painfully erect by an emerald ring around his penis. No wonder Gold had acted as if it were so commonplace. 

Then, as they moved closer to the center of the castle, she noticed one or two female slaves who were fitted with silver chastity belts rather than tassels and the nipple chains bore different colored stones that sparkled in the light. She couldn’t get a good look at the silver device, but there appeared to be only a small circle at the front for evacuation purposes. How did they… take care of their  _ other  _ business, she wondered?

Her guide must have noticed her confused expression because he pointed down a side hallway as he explained, “Most slaves are available for her guests to use as they will.” 

She looked down the hall and observed a blonde woman bent over a side table, a man in noble clothing fucking her from behind. They were not alone, but no one even glanced at them, not even when the girl cried out as the noble abruptly pulled the tassel from her arse then crammed his prick in, continuing to use her and grunting obscenely. 

Gold went on, “The castle is spelled to prevent all pregnancies, the Mistress doesn’t have the patience for complications such as that.” He gestured at a different slave, this one with a silver belt. “The ones with chastity devices are the Mistress’s personal slaves, the ones no one else gets to touch. You’ll be one of them.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or not.”

“Be relieved,” he said. “Some truly unsavory people come to call. I won’t say it’s not so bad, because being here at all is…” He stopped. “I shouldn’t say such things. I just… think you ought to know the extent of what’s expected of you.”

“I appreciate your honesty. I’d rather be terrified and informed than ignorant and still terrified.”

“You don’t look terrified.”

“Good.”

He gave her that sad almost-smile once more and pushed open a door. It led to a private bathing chamber with a large golden tub sunk into the floor. Trays of fancy glass bottles, dishes of soaps, and decorative basins circled the bath.

“If you’ll give me your clothes, I’ll see to it they’re carefully stored away so that they may be returned to you at the end of the year,” he said.

Even though he’d said it so gently, Belle’s hands began to shake again as she reached for the ties to her bodice. It could have been a nightmare up until this point. It was as if relinquishing her clothing, her final barrier, made it real.

She looked up as his warm hands came to rest over hers, halting her movement. She was surprised by tears falling from her eyes, she hadn’t even noticed she’d begun to weep.

_ “Now _ you look terrified,” he said, his voice full of sadness. He angled his chin at her dress. “Let me help you?”

She nodded, letting her hands fall to her sides as he took over pulling the laces from the grommets. “I don’t want to be, but I can’t help it,” she admitted. “I know she’ll return my body to its original state once this is all over, but… I’ll always remember this. I’ll never forget that my first time was with someone I don’t love, that I couldn’t even choose.”

He blinked at her with surprise, pausing his work. “You’ve never--” His mouth tightened. “Of course. You’re a noblewoman. That’s--” He took a breath, his expression darkening with indignation and pity. “No one should have to carry that kind of weight.”

She looked up at him, biting her lip. The thought running through her head was crazy, but then, so was the entire situation. “Gold,” she said, a quaver in her voice that she couldn’t banish. “I decided I would do this for the good of my loved ones. Help me make this decision for myself. Let  _ me  _ decide who I give my first time to.”

He didn’t seem to understand until she tentatively placed both hands on his chest, then his eyes widened. “I-- I can’t!” he exclaimed, backing a step away from her. “If she were to find out--” He shook his head, his hair swinging back and forth. “I’m sorry, please understand, I am truly sorry, but…”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked--”

“Belle,” he said, gently gripping her shoulders, encouraging her to look back at him. “You have every right to ask. It  _ should  _ be your decision.” He released a sigh. “But I have more at risk than just punishment.” 

She nodded, wanting to understand, to accept her fate, to do the brave thing. Even so, more tears escaped her eyes and she swiped at them, sniffling. “Best get the crying done with now, I suppose. I have no doubt I will cry many times this year, but I’d at least like to face her this first time without doing so.”

“Oh, Belle,” he sighed. 

Reaching for her face, he cupped her cheek, tenderly brushing a tear away with his thumb. His kindness made her heart give another clench. With his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, he leaned in, slowly, allowing her to see his intention. He touched his lips to hers with the lightness of a feather in a breeze, his other hand reaching up to curl around her neck. 

His kiss was brief, but seemed fraught with so much more depth than any other kiss she’d sampled from visiting courtiers in Avonlea. She realized it was because those kisses had been taken for granted. A kiss on the hand, on the cheek, it was commonplace. But here, as slaves, their kisses were no longer their own. Their bodies, their will, it all belonged to someone else. This moment with Gold, his kiss, his touch, it was stolen. And that was why it meant more. Because he didn’t have the freedom to choose her, and yet, he did anyway.

He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath ghosting over her mouth as he whispered, “You make me want to be brave.”

The longing in his voice nearly broke her heart. This seemed to be just as important to him as it was to her. 

He took a deep breath and straightened, taking both her hands in his. “My lady,” he said, the burr in his voice rougher than before. “You give the gift of choice. And here, that is a rare thing indeed. I have nothing to offer except myself, but I will be yours, if you will have me.”

She fell into his arms on a sob of gratitude and he held her close, stroking her back and her hair. She could feel his erection pressing into her belly through her skirt, but she found nothing lewd about it. She knew it wasn’t his choice. But  _ this  _ was. This was something just for them. That he would risk his Mistress’s displeasure in order to give her a beautiful memory meant so much to her.

He rained sweet kisses across her cheeks and along her jaw before returning to her mouth. As his lips captured hers with increasing intensity, his hands returned to her clothing, divesting her just as gently as before. He peeled back her bodice once the laces had been pulled free, tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue at the same time. She couldn’t help a soft moan as she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to play with hers. Belle had never been kissed like this before, though she’d read of such things in the tawdry novels she’d hidden under her pillow. It was even better than the authors had described.

He’d kept her so distracted with his kisses, Belle didn’t even realize he’d unbuttoned her blouse until he filled his palms with her bare breasts, his touch firm but not cruel. She shrugged off the shirt, gasping against his lips as his thumbs drew circles around her nipples, teasing them to stiff peaks. She fought to catch her breath when his mouth left hers, kissing a moist path down her neck, along her collarbone, and around the swell of each breast. Her eyes drifted shut when he took one nipple into his mouth, rolling it around his tongue, and applying easy suction. Her hands found the back of his head, threading her fingers through his long, soft hair. 

Despite her eager reading habits, she’d never known that sex could feel like this. She’d assumed it was a fantasy cooked up by the writers, especially after the brief explanation she’d been given by her tutor on the act of creating children. This left every assumption she’d ever had behind. 

A heaviness settled in her stomach, stronger than the fear that had dominated her for a week, pushing all of her apprehension to the back of her mind. She clutched at his shoulders as her knees threatened to turn liquid on her, that knot of pressure coiling lower and lower. When he moved to give the same attention to the opposite breast, a tiny pulse emanated from between her legs and a rush of hot wetness followed. She reached behind herself for the drawstring to her skirt, needing to feel more of him pressed against her.

Once she’d stepped out of her skirt and boots, Gold moved back, taking hold of her hands and drawing her toward the tub. It began to fill with warm water as they climbed inside, but he shut it off once the level reached as high as the seat built into the side.

He began rubbing her down with a soft, wet cloth, interspersing his attentions with sipping kisses to her lips and shoulders, then he selected a light pink soap and lathered her skin. His hands glided over her, finding her tight muscles and massaging them, all while the sweet fragrance of roses drifted around them. 

Only when she was relaxed and leaning back against him did he finally run his fingers through the dark curls at the apex of her legs. That tiny pulse came again, this time concentrated from a spot just above her opening, from that little nub that granted so much pleasure when she’d touched herself experimentally during the night. She couldn’t truly put a word to the heaviness she felt inside her, the word that came closest was  _ Want,  _ even though she’d never desired something this much in her life. 

He played her as masterfully as an instrument. He was breathing heavily, but still he took his time, caressing her outer lips, brushing over them with his slick fingers, his cock nestled in the crack of her arse. He whispered her name over and over and it sounded so beautiful, she thought she could listen to him forever.

When he reached for the soft cloth again without touching her any more intimately, Belle couldn’t help an involuntary noise of disappointment and impatience. This time, when he smiled, it felt like the sun coming out. She grabbed him and kissed him before she could think, wanting to capture that smile with her lips before it faded.

“Trust me,” he said.

“I do.”

He chose a large glass bottle full of oil and poured the contents into a basin. The scent was foreign to her, almost spicy, but with a musky undertone. He allowed the tub to drain before coating his hands in the oil and beginning to rub her down with it, even more carefully than he had washed her, going so far as to oil her navel and each space between her toes. It warmed her skin, making it impossibly soft. Finally, he had her bend at the waist, placing her hands on the edge of the tub, before he dipped his hands in the oil again.

With his right hand, he cupped her sex, dipping in slightly to tease her inner lips. Her appreciative moan turned into a squeak of surprise as the fingers of his other hand slid between her arse cheeks and rested on top of the puckered ring of her anus. She’d expected something like this, having seen the other slaves, but still, she’d never even touched herself back there, not in  _ this  _ nature.

“Breathe,” he told her, and she did, having momentarily forgotten how. She took a deep breath as he massaged her, bringing the tips of his right hand up to her clit, circling around the sensitive nub and drawing attention away from his other hand. “Relax, consciously think about releasing the muscles.”

As she breathed out, she did as he said, closing her eyes and focusing, grateful for him once more, that he was there to ease her into this. He pressed one finger to her rear entrance, slowly going in the smallest amount as she relaxed. The muscle almost immediately tightened around the digit, but she took another breath and released the tension as best she could.

“Beautiful, Belle,” he said once he’d entered up to his first knuckle and rewarded her by sliding a finger from his right hand into her drenched pussy.

She was glad to be holding onto the tub, because her knees almost buckled, an overwhelming wave of sensation flowing over her. He kissed her jaw and her hair, murmuring sweet encouragements as her body shook and clenched around his fingers, praising her for reaching orgasm, but he didn’t stop. There was more. 

He worked her like this for a long time, the oil and her own juices keeping his fingers slick, and going so slowly that Belle hardly felt a twinge of pain. He kept going until he could fit two fingers in each opening, gently scissoring them to stretch the muscles of her hymen and anus. It was tight and strange, but not unduly uncomfortable. She even thought, given enough time, she could come to truly like it.

“How do you want me to take you, Belle?” he asked, his breath hot on her neck. “Like this?”

“No,” she gasped out. She didn’t want to be taken from behind, like she’d seen in the hallway. She wanted to memorize Gold’s tragically beautiful face the moment he entered her. “Want to… see you.”

He nodded his understanding and slowly, very slowly, eased his fingers out of her. It felt odd, to be empty after feeling so full. After climbing out of the tub, he turned and assisted her out as well, lying Belle down on top of some plush white towels. Her legs opened naturally as he propped himself up above her on his hands and knees, cradling him against her hips.

His hair brushed the sides of her face as he leaned down to kiss her again, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth, then soothing the bite with his tongue. She shifted against him, bringing her hot, wet center into contact with his cock, still just as hard as ever, and he broke the kiss on a strangled moan.

“Belle,” he breathed.

“Yes, Gold?”

A sound like half a sob escaped him as he leaned his forehead against hers, briefly closing his eyes. “I wish I could tell you my real name.”

She blinked. “It’s not…?”

“No. I told you, she takes your name. Literally, takes it. She uses an Unspeakable Curse to make a subject incapable of saying their own name for the length of their contract.”

She bit her lip, her eyes welling up again. She hadn’t thought his earlier warning had magical implications. The slaves really were robbed of everything, even the most basic of belongings, their own name. Reaching up, she stroked his face and hair and placed gentle kisses across his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, unsure what else to say. “Can… can you spell it?”

He lifted his head and stared at her with eyes like warm amber before a miraculous smile blossomed on his face. “I can.”

Pulling back to sit on his heels, he reached over to the bowl of oil and dipped his index finger into it. Belle propped herself up on one elbow to watch him write across the tile -  _ Rumplestiltskin.  _ She’d never heard of such a name before and it bounced around her mind in lilting syllables before rolling down to her tongue.

“Ru--”

He quickly placed a finger to her lips. She pressed them together, tasting the spice scented oil. He didn’t have to tell her, they were already breaking rules. It didn’t do to tempt fate.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down on top of her. She nuzzled his neck and pressed her mouth to his ear, his silky hair catching on her lips as she whispered, barely a thread of sound, “Rumplestiltskin.”

He shuddered and tightened his hold on her. “Belle! Oh… I…”

He didn’t continue, he didn’t seem able to speak. So she said his name again and again, breathing it against his ear, until he stopped her with an urgent  kiss. As his tongue surged into her mouth, his right arm moved and then she felt the rounded head of his cock at her entrance. Her heart rate picked up speed.

“Breathe,” he told her again. “Remember? Think about relaxing.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as she consciously thought about her nether muscles and releasing them as best she could. He gave her an encouraging half-smile, the left side of his mouth curving up.

“Good. Reach down and spread your lips for me with your fingers.”

She followed his instructions and continued to breathe as he concentrated on entering her slowly, waiting for her muscles to give and not force himself in as she’d been expecting. This was not how she’d pictured her first time at all; the lewd romance novels had all talked about pain and blood during a woman’s first sexual encounter. While this experience had been uncomfortable in places, he’d prepared her so well that there was only a minute burning sensation as she was stretched to fit around him. Even that passed quickly, to be replaced with an exquisite fullness, different from before.

Only when he’d entered as far as he could did she notice that they were both breathing heavily as if they’d run for miles and she couldn’t tell if their skin was glistening with sweat or oil or probably both. His hands swept her sides, up and down, a reassuring caress. 

“Belle?” Though he was practically vibrating with restrained urgency, he still waited to make sure she was alright.

She nodded. “I am yours.” A tremulous smile wreathed her lips and she almost wanted to laugh. She felt giddy, victorious, full of buzzing energy. 

Her smile was met with another from him, a light in his eyes as he took her hands in his and brought them to his mouth in turn. Leaning over her, he lifted her arms above her head, keeping their hands clasped as he withdrew and easily glided back in. She arched her back, hissing in air through her teeth, pressing her breasts against his chest.

“Rum-- Rumple!” she squeaked out, barely able to utter a sound.

She gave up trying to speak as he continued to move, the sinuous slide of flesh against flesh sending waves of feeling through her, rapidly building as the coil of desire wound ever tighter, deep within her abdomen. 

He let go of her hands and reached underneath her, grabbing her arse and tilting her hips upward. “Use your legs,” he bit out between breaths, “find your rhythm with me.”

The new angle allowed him to brush against her clit just above where they were joined and Belle began to shake with every inward thrust. With her feet flat on the floor, she found she was able to meet his thrusts, which resulted in a quick burst of intense feeling every time their slick skin slapped together.

“I don’t-- I can’t--” she gasped, feeling like they were reaching for something, but needing more to take her that final measure.

He seemed to understand her fractured garbling and spread the flat of his hand over the dark curls at her apex, thumbing her clit  in quick circles. The coil behind her navel burst and ecstasy swept over her in ever widening ripples, white stars exploding behind her tightly closed eyes. He quickly covered her mouth with his other hand as she cried out, her inner muscles contracting violently and clamping down on him  _ hard. _ He buckled, folding over her on a deep groan, and she opened her eyes in time to see his jaw go slack, his lips tremble, and his eyes fall shut before the curtain of his hair obscured her view. She could feel him twitching inside of her as he spilled himself, his hips bucking again and again in little involuntary shocks. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

He let himself fall down on top of her, but his weight felt pleasant, it felt right. She wasn’t ready to have him leave her just yet. She wrapped her arms around him just so he would know she wanted him to rest, she just didn’t have the words at the moment. He also curled his arms around her, burying his face against her neck. He was shaking. So was she. She didn’t know if he was crying as much as she was, but she wouldn’t say anything. This had meant so much to her. It made her feel happy that perhaps it had to him as well.

Slowly, the euphoria began to fade and Belle took a full breath. He seemed to take it as a signal and lifted himself up on his arms, wincing slightly as he eased himself out of her, then sat back on his heels. Her eyes widened as the ring at the base of his cock glowed faintly and the next moment, his length was beginning to thicken all over again. He grunted and pressed his lips together as his brows furrowed in discomfort.

“Already?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He looked up for a moment before nodding, grimly. “I’m afraid the ring doesn’t care about a proper refractory period. It’s designed to get us to peak arousal as soon as possible and keep us there until we’re ‘needed.’” He sighed. “You get used to it.” He looked at her again, perhaps trying not to think about the state of his prick, even though his eyes were still half-squinted. “I’m not supposed to come without her permission,” he confessed. “That’s why I said I couldn’t at first when you asked me.” Her expression must have given away her sudden fear, because he waved a hand, stopping her when she would have tried to get up. “It’s alright. As long as she doesn’t find out.”

She didn’t like the sound of that and wished he had told her before. It was too late now and she couldn’t believe he would risk the Witch’s displeasure for her, someone he’d just met. She already knew she would be forever grateful to him, but now… She’d never experienced this depth of feeling before. She could feel in her heart the urge to wrap him in her arms and never let go.

“How do you feel?” he asked as he looked her over, perhaps searching for some outward sign that she’d been hurt.

She smiled, appreciating his concern, and sat up. “I feel a little bad for saying it, considering your state, but actually… I feel fairly wonderful.”

He returned her smile, although the haunted shadows were already returning. “Don’t feel bad. You may feel sore later. If you tell me, I can bring you something for it.” He paused, glancing down. “I, ah… I rather liked that name you called me,” he added, almost shyly.

“What name?” She attempted to think back. “Oh, Rumple?” His delighted little grin as he ducked his head told her she’d remembered correctly. “I just didn’t have the breath to say the whole thing,” she said, blushing a little. “But I sort of like it, too.” She scooted back, maneuvering up onto her knees to sit on her heels the way he was. “You’ll always be Rumple to me, then. Even if I can only say it in private.”

“I’d like that,” he said, gazing at her like she’d given him the moon. Reaching out, he traced his fingers along her cheek and she closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. “Thank you, Belle,” he said with reverence in his tone.

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? I asked you.”

“True. But I was the one given a gift. I’ll never forget that.”

“Neither will I.” She leaned forward to give him one last kiss, sweetly taking his lower lip between hers and relishing the soft sound he made at the back of his throat in answer.

They rushed through another quick rinse in the tub, making sure to wash away the remnants of Rumple’s name written on the floor, and then reapplied liberal amounts of the oil to Belle’s body. He ended up with quite a bit on himself as well, but that was to be expected. He brushed her hair until it shone like polished wood and arranged it around her shoulders in soft waves. It was a wonderful way to come down from the heights they’d reached together, but finally, there was no other way to prolong the inevitable.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Will I ever be?”

“No. But you’re not alone.”

She nodded and lifted her chin. “Day one.”


	2. Collared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the warnings. Please read responsibly.

Belle tried not to let her stomach sink as Rumple led her toward the throne room, but it was difficult when she could hear the sexual moaning coming through the door half a hallway away. She swallowed thickly and kept pace with the man at her side, ignoring all instincts that said ‘turn and run.’ Running wouldn’t save Avonlea. According to the contract, if Belle failed to hold up her end of the bargain, the Witch could rescind her protection.

Rumple paused just outside the door and turned to her. “Speak only when spoken to. Never interrupt if it can be avoided.”

She nodded and he opened the door.

A huge room spread out before them with gold and marble arches surrounding the entire perimeter. A second floor above opened in a gallery framed by an elaborately scrolled bannister, the balustrades set with multicolored gems whose colors were echoed in the abstract stained glass ceiling. At the far end of the room sat a golden throne with a large peacock’s tail sculpted as the chair’s back. More jewels winked from the tips of each gold feather.

Dressed in immaculate black, Zelena, the Wicked Witch herself sat upon the throne. Her elegant gown lay open below the waist, the sides of the skirt spread apart, revealing a gorgeous satin lining of deep plum that complimented her violently green skin perfectly. Her head was tilted back against the seat, exposing the long column of her throat, as she loudly proclaimed her appreciation for what the girl kneeling at her feet was doing to her.

The girl was one of the belted slaves and Belle noticed a large pear-shaped emerald on the back of her chastity device. Her head bobbed up and down over the Witch’s lap, her long dark hair obscuring her face. The golden chain that dangled between her breasts jingled softly as she moved, the rubies which decorated it sparkling as they caught the light.

Perhaps the sound of the door alerted Zelena to their presence because she looked up as Belle and Rumple entered, her blue eyes coming alive as she cast her gaze on each of them.

“Ah,” she purred. “Finally.” She tapped the dark haired slave’s cheek. “Let me up.”

The girl moved back and made to get out of the way as the Witch got to her feet, but rather than address the two arrivals, Zelena grabbed the slave by her hair, keeping her where she was. The slave didn’t even make a sound of protest.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, holding her gown out of the way with her free hand. “You started this, you’ll finish it. Now stay still while I fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

Belle glanced at Rumple and fought to keep her face as impassive as his while the Witch held the slave’s head and thrust her hips aggressively toward her face. The girl gagged on every single thrust, a horrid squelching noise, but thankfully, it was only a minute or two before Zelena’s cries became louder and her thrusting got shallower. 

She moved her hold to the back of the slave’s head and thrust all the way in, holding her there for a moment before allowing her a new breath, and then thrusting in again. “That’s it,” the Witch gasped. “Take it-- Take all of it-- That’s right, swallow it down. Don’t you  _ dare  _ waste a single drop.”

The slave swallowed around the load, her eyes shut tight, and gasped for air once Zelena let go of her head with a deeply heavy sigh. She smiled languorously down at the coughing girl, but the emotion it carried was ice cold, like the soft, sinister laugh she uttered next. 

“That’s my good little pet,” Zelena crooned. “Seems like such a waste, going off like a firework all at once.” With the slave slumped on the floor, Belle was afforded her first full look at the Witch’s now flaccid penis, laying wetly between her green thighs like a fat, glistening slug. Zelena giggled girlishly and pinched the recovering girl’s cheek. A bright red skeleton key dangled from her wrist on a velvet ribbon, catching the light as she waggled the girl’s head back and forth. “I swear, I wouldn’t even bother with this thing if it weren’t for all those lovely choking noises!”

Zelena waved her hand and purple smoke engulfed the spent organ, making it vanish. Belle had a glance of the puffy pink lips of the Witch’s labia before she allowed her gown to fall back into place, the two sides of her skirt neatly covering her all the way to the floor. She clapped her hands once and the dark-haired girl scrambled out of the way, to one side of the throne where a cushion waited. 

Belle’s eyes darted back up to Zelena’s face, but the green-skinned woman didn’t appear upset by the searching gaze. Rather, she looked smug as she approached. And dangerous.

As Zelena walked around her latest acquisition, touching her chestnut hair and twirling a curl around a finger, Belle remained motionless and did not attempt to cover herself, though she wished she could. She was proud of herself for withholding a shiver when the Witch’s red-tipped fingers reached out to test the weight of one of Belle’s breasts, lifting it up and giving it a good squeeze.

“Mmm, yes,” Zelena said, coming back around to face her. “I think you’ll do quite nicely. First things first.” She appeared thoughtful for a moment, then straightened and gestured at the floor in front of Belle. “For so long as you serve me, your name shall be ‘Princess.’”

Belle hadn’t been a princess, as her father was merely a lord, an honored knight of the king, and Zelena was of course aware of this. Belle knew that the name wasn’t to remind her of a previous title, but rather to speak of how low she’d fallen.

A sinuous tendril of smoke erupted from the Witch’s finger and curled around Belle in a circle on the floor, then snaked around into a figure eight beside her. She couldn’t help but appear a little shocked when a transparent image of her naked self appeared in the circle.

Zelena gestured again and a clear glass bottle appeared in her hand. The image of Belle began to disappear into the bottle like grains slipping into the bottom of an hourglass, creating a cloudy yellow miasma inside the bottle. The Witch tossed it into the air when the double had vanished completely and the bottle transported away in a flash of light. The moment it was gone, Belle heard a quick snap and suddenly the cold weight of a collar had formed around her neck, followed by cuffs at her wrists and ankles. The gear was surprisingly soft, but she felt the scant weight all the way down to her soul.

“There,” said Zelena. “Your bodily state has been safely stored away, ready to be returned at the end of the year.” Her smile turned wolfish. “That is,  _ if  _ you fulfill your end of the deal.”

Belle said nothing, she was only too aware of what could happen if she failed to follow the letter of the contract. Her tongue felt odd, heavy, with the tang of something metallic at the back of her throat. Experimentally, she attempted to form her name, but a strange mental block accompanied the thickness in her mouth when she tried, making her feel confused. Her name truly had become Unspeakable.

“Now, let’s see about outfitting you properly,” Zelena went on, once again looking over Belle’s body with an appraising eye.

The Witch placed both hands on Belle’s shoulders then swept them down her arms. Belle sucked in a breath as a rush of air hit her, the entire room feeling suddenly more chilly than it had a moment ago. When she looked down, she gasped. Zelena had gotten rid of all the hair on Belle’s body from the neck down. She had noticed that the groins of every slave had been hairless coming in, she hadn’t suspected it extended to everywhere but their heads.

That thought flew away as Zelena pinched both of Belle’s nipples between her sharp nails and she tried not to cry out as a flash of intense pain struck both pink nubs. The Witch chuckled again as the pain receded, faded away as if it had never been.

“No need to keep silent unless I ask for it, pet,” she said, condescendingly. “I enjoy knowing how much I hurt you.”

Blinking back the tears stinging her eyes, Belle nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

A light jingle caught her attention and she looked down again to see that her nipples had been pierced with little gold rings and the chain that swung between was decorated with beautiful aqua colored gems in the shape of teadrops. The cool temperature of the metal made her shiver.

“Very pretty,” said the Witch, lifting her chin in satisfaction of a job well done. Her eyes flicked over to Rumple, who had remained silent and still during the entire thing. “Speaking of pretty,” she purred, oozing over to him. Her height and the heels of her shoes made her tower over the man and she smiled down at him, trailing the fingernails of one hand across his chest and around to his back as she walked in a circle around him. “Have you missed me today, pet?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Rumple answered, though Belle could see that his eyes were dead as he said it.

Zelena either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the sincerity of his affirmation. She gripped him around the neck and pulled him in for a deep, aggressive kiss that ended in her biting his lower lip and pulling on it. Rumple again failed to react other than to let her do as she wished.

“You’d love to make me come today, wouldn’t you?” she asked, her voice sickeningly sweet.

“Very much, Mistress.” This, surprisingly, sounded almost genuine, if not for the pain in his eyes.

She pouted at him in mock sympathy and patted his cheek. “Too bad,” she sing-songed. She turned to go back to her throne, waving a hand negligently. “I have no need of you today. Either of you.” 

With another gesture, purple smoke swirled in front of Rumple and in the next moment, he was holding a silver chastity belt. The Witch settled herself on her throne, rolling her shoulders back with a sigh.

“Show her where the rooms are and fit her with the belt.” She tapped her chin, pursing her lips. “Put her at… oh, setting one, I suppose. Break her in gently,” she added with a wicked smirk and an arch of one ginger eyebrow.

Neither Rumple nor Belle wasted any time getting out of the throne room, thought they tried not to appear too eager to quit Zelena’s presence. She still felt noticeably exposed with her pubic area bare like it was, it seemed like Belle could feel every breath of wind that passed by, but it had felt so much worse when the Witch’s icy gaze was upon her. It felt like she could see straight through her, as if Zelena could cut her open and rip out her innards with one look.

Rumple glanced at her, but neither of them dared to even offer a comforting hand to the other, not while there were winged monkeys here and there, keeping watch with their hard, glittering eyes.

He led her through the castle toward the back until the passage split - one way going down toward the lesser slave quarters and the dungeons, and the other way going up toward the favored slave quarters. He pointed out a door next to the cross-section.

“That leads to the washroom,” he said. “The doorway is spelled so that any chastity devices will come unlocked once you enter.” His cheeks reddened slightly. “I would, er…  _ recommend  _ that you try to use the facilities before the start of your duties. Your body should become used to the routine, as it isn’t always convenient to return and use them as you require. She has  _ no  _ qualms about making you defecate on yourself rather than interrupt her. And she  _ will  _ make you clean it up.”

He didn’t make it sound as easy as grabbing a mop and bucket and she hoped she would never have to find out. Well, at least that was the answer to her earlier thought. It felt like an age ago. 

She eyed the device in Rumple’s hands. Now that she could see the silver belt up close, she could see that the hole in the front was about the size of a gold coin - slightly larger than a grown man’s thumbprint. It would be a fairly easy thing to quickly use a chamber pot throughout the day without having to run back to the special washroom to get the belt off. That thought brought a measure of comfort. And a slit went from the hole all the way to the pear-shaped emerald on the back. The emerald was not just decoration, it seemed, but a kind of dial with settings from one to ten tooled into the silver. She had no doubt she’d find out what that meant shortly.

They went up to find an empty room for Belle. She was relieved to note there were no monkeys in these hallways. At least here, they could be relatively safe from the Witch’s eyes and ears. 

Rumple opened a door and gestured for her to precede him inside. There was a thin archer’s hole of a window high up on the far wall providing a scant amount of light which revealed a room about the size of a closet, but it was large enough for an actual rough-hewn bed with plain gray blankets. She was glad she wouldn’t have to sleep on a pallet of straw as she’d imagined on the way here.

He assisted her with the belt, holding it open in two parts for her to fit into. On the inside of the device were two small nubs which, she suspected, fitted up inside both openings to her genitals. Once he closed it about her hips, the belt magically shrank and adjusted itself into a custom fit that was snug but, miraculously, almost comfortable. She would always know she was wearing it, but at the same time, she was grateful to have a small amount of modesty afforded to her. 

Rumple rested his hand on the dial and looked to her. “Breathe for me and relax,” he instructed.

She was coming to understand the importance of concentrating on relaxing and appreciated his guidance as she did as he said. He turned the dial one click and, even though he’d warned her, Belle was still surprised at the feeling of the nubs on the belt expanding to fill her. However, though it was impossible to ignore, it didn’t hurt at all. The nubs were small, about the size of one of her fingers. She blew out another breath. She could handle this.

She looked up at him and attempted a smile. “How do I look?”

He gave her his sad smile in return and touched her cheek with gentle fingers. “Brave.”

It lightened something in her heart to hear him say such things, but that feeling vanished in an instant when he turned to go. Her pulse jumped at the prospect of being left alone in this horrid place, with nothing to do but imagine the horrors awaiting her. Impulsively, she grabbed his hand.

“Wait!” she cried, her voice sounding too loud in the small room, and he looked back, surprised. Her cheeks heated and she ducked her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of him. “Please… stay with me?”

The surprise on his face didn’t dissipate. “You want me to stay… even after--?”

Her lips parted in shock. “Rumple--”

“I know you gave your consent, but--”

She closed the slight distance between them, placing both of her hands on either side of his face, stopping his words. “But nothing,” she insisted, firmly. “I  _ chose  _ you. It may have been far from an ideal situation, but you gave me a beautiful memory and I don’t regret it.” She paused, worried that he might think she coerced him. “Do you?”

“Only the circumstances,” he admitted. He covered her hands with his own and brought them down between them. “It's been so long since I last found anything to treasure in this place. Thank you, Belle.”

Being unable to speak her own name, there was something truly special about hearing it from his lips and she wondered how long it had been since he’d heard his before she’d said it. “Thank you, Rumplestiltskin,” she returned, using his full name on purpose.

He smiled and lifted one of her hands to his mouth. “Come with me?”

She followed him without question out of her new room and down the hall. He opened a door at the end which led into a similarly sized room with another small bed and she assumed it was his. There were a couple of differences - his bed boasted a pair of finely made pillows in white brocade, which looked incredibly out of place next to the gray blankets, and a little stool sat on the floor near the head of the bed, acting as a tiny table. It held one candle, a tinderbox, and--

Belle’s eyes lit up and she rushed forward, unable to help herself. “You have a book!” she exclaimed eagerly, picking up the large hardbound volume.

He outstretched one hand hesitantly, but lowered it again after a moment, rubbing his first finger and thumb together. “That’s… yes,” he finished awkwardly.

She realized a moment later that possessions were not a common thing for slaves and she was likely handling something quite important to him. She hastily set it back down, flustered. “I’m, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” she babbled. Here he was, showing her exquisite kindness, and she went around grabbing his things. “I just love books so much and being unable to read any for a year…” She flushed, feeling silly. “That sounds so stupid when I say it out loud like that…”

“It isn’t stupid,” he said, stopping her from her tirade. He came over and picked up the book. “If it’s important to you, then it’s far from stupid.” He offered the book, tilting the faded orange cover towards her. The scant light glinted off the words painted there in black and gold -  _ Once Upon A Time. _ “This is one of the few things I treasure,” he said. “Would you like to see it?”

“Fairy tales?” she asked, waiting for his nod to continue. “It seems an odd choice for a grown man.”

He offered another wistful smile. “That’s… a story for another day.”

She accepted this explanation with a nod and pressed the book back to him, her common sense getting the better of her curiosity. “I think I’d do better to get some sleep for tonight.”

He replaced the book onto the stool and pulled back the blankets on the bed, climbing in first and holding out his arms for her. Turned slightly on his side, there was just enough room for both of them. She followed his example and laid down facing him, wanting to see his face if she happened to wake during the night. The small window should allow enough light for that, she thought. 

She wiggled, trying to get comfortable. Even with as small an intrusion as the belt was currently set at, it was not easy to ignore. She grunted and shifted and her nipple chain jingled. Though the piercings weren’t tender, owing to the magical way she acquired them she guessed, the reminder if its presence irritated her as well.

“Let me guess,” she grumbled, huffing a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll get used to it?”

He actually uttered a quiet chuckle. “Believe it or not.” 

Rumple ran his fingers over her head and drew them through her hair, soothing her, taking her mind off of the chastity belt as best he could. She wrapped both of her hands around his free one and snuggled closer, entangling their legs beneath the covers.

Belle’s mind and body were full, and finding sleep in that situation was a tricky thing. But Rumple’s fingers must have have held a little magic of their own, because it seemed like only a short time later that she was drifting off, smiling softly as she felt him press his lips to her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to send me prompts for Belle's year of service, either here in the comments or at my Tumblr, licieoic. Nothing is off-limits.

**Author's Note:**

> While I do know where this story will eventually end, I am leaving Belle's year of service open to prompts. Please feel free to give me anything, no matter how extreme, either here in the comments or on my Tumblr, licieoic.


End file.
